Your Gun to My Head
by Pixie Moon Angel
Summary: TWTTIN: Bryon is finally able to stomach the company of other people, and he seeks out someone he never thought he'd turn to again. His night spent with her isn't exactly what he bargained for.


_This is actually a That Was Then, This is Now fic, but doesn't have a section for that, so here it is. They should have a "Other Books" section or something. That would really solve the whole problem. Anyway... This is post-book, and just a little plot I had. Hope you guys enjoy._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own anyone mentioned from That Was Then, This is Now or The Outsiders. They are the sole intellectual property of S. E. Hinton, as far as I know. I also do not own the song "Cute Witout the 'E' (Cut From the Team)", which belongs to Taking Back Sunday. The song was just the perfect inspiration for this story. Enjoy, and reviews are appreciated._

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**Your Gun to My Head**

Bryon laid back on the soft bed beneath him as Angela Shepard straddled his waist. He realeased the breath he'd been holding. Her hot mouth found his neck and moved downward, over his collarbone, his chest and lower. His body arched and moved with her minstrations, but his heart wasn't in it. Moans escaped from his mouth of their own accord. He clutched the bedsheets in his hands, and his mind was elsewhere. His mind was thinking about the last time he'd been in Angel's bed. About the last time she'd been writhing in passion beneath him. About how soft and delicate she felt in his arms. About the deep nailmarks she'd left on his shoulders.

_Angel dug her nails deep into his shoulders as she reached her release. He kept moving on her, kept thrusting, just barely away from his. Her little mewls of pleasure were lost on him. He was totally in his own world, a world where she couldn't follow him to. The light was building behind his eyes. It was so close... Any minute now..._

_"I love you," she panted._

_His movements stopped. He looked down at her, his climax lost and forgotten. It had danced out of his reach. Those three words managed to bring his world to the frontal view again, slapping him in the face. This was Angela Shepard beneath him. The cold-hard bitch with the angel-beautiful face that was proclaiming her love for him. He felt sick to his stomach. She was such a tramp... She had tricked him into her bed once more with booze, and now she had the gaul to tell him she loved him. He got up, gathered his clothes and left, ignoring her cries that followed him. Never again would she have him. Never again._

"Yes... Yes..."

He looked up at her above him, moving at a pace that suited her. His body reacted to her touches and caresses, but his heart and mind were numb to her. He was totally numb to her and the rest of the world. He'd been numb since the day he'd betrayed his brother, hislion, Mark. This moment in time mattered little to him. Angela didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

His hands guided her hips to a different rhythm. He stroked the smooth flesh beneath his fingertips. She'd always been so vain of that skin of her's... Aside from her headful of ebony silk, it was her best feature... Bryon remembered that he wasn't the only guy to stroke her hips like this. He wasn't the only one to know Miss Shepard this way. Memories of a dark night, so long ago it seemed now, seeped into his brain. He could remember that night perfectly.

_The Tulsa night was slightly cold around him. He pulled his jacket closer in an attempt to fight it off. The nights had been getting too cold lately to sneak out and walk to his destination, but it was worth it. Angela was worth it. His beautiful, dark Angel. Being in her arms, in her bed, just the two of them and no one else for those few precious moments, was totally worth anything._

_Carefully, he moved towards her window. Her stepdad would kill him if he knew what was going on. Thankfully, the huge man had been kicked out, per routine in the Shepard household, and wouldn't be allowed back for at least a week or two. Tim was in jail once again, Curly was in juvie, and her mother was out drinking again. They would have the house all to themselves tonight._

_Bryon looked up into the window, and froze. Angela was laying on her bed - no, she was laying on _some guy_. As she moved her head lower on his body, Bryon was able to make out his face. He vaguely remembered him... His last name was Mathews... A real wise-guy... His feet seemed rooted to their spot as he watched his girlfriend, the girl he loved, with another guy. No, he didn't love her. He had only thought he did. He realized at that instant that he lusted after her, yes, but never loved her._

_He sighed and headed home. Tomorrow at school, she would have an excuse for what he saw. She would try to explain it all away. But it was too late for them. He couldn't date Angela Shepard if she couldn't be faithful, and he knew she couldn't. He would just have to tell it to her straight. Never again would he allow himself to be sucked in by those pleading blue eyes. Never, ever again._

Angela was quickly approaching the edge. Her head fell back as she moved on him. She really was a beautiful girl, especially in the throes of passion, Bryon thought to himself. Thoughts of Angel were replaced by rain... The sound of rain on the roof of his car, and a radiant brunette in the seat beside him.

_Cathy sat beside him, smiling at him so wonderfully. They had been caught in a sudden shower, and they were both soaked. Bryon studied how her clothes clung to her form. She was so beautiful... He had never really noticed it before, but it hit him full-force now. He smiled back at her. His heart felt like it was beating a million times a minute, there was a queasy feeling in his stomach... What was wrong with him? What was he feeling now?_

_Love..._

_Yes, it was love. He loved Cathy... Somehow, without him noticing, he had fallen in love with the girl beside him, and it felt so right. He saw his future in Cathy's eyes. They had so much time, an eternity. He wanted to spend it all with her. He wanted to be young with her forever. He wanted to marry her, and have kids with her, and grow old with her, and fall asleep in her embrace every night. _

_Cathy was so beautiful, so good... So different from Angel. That was why he loved her so much, she was everything Angel wasn't. Angel was bitter and angry under her beautiful mask. She was going down and the world was coming with her. She'd destroy everyone before she was through if she got the chance. She was a maneater... But Cathy... Cathy was different. She was so sweet, so loving, so... so golden. Her touch didn't bring destruction. Cathy was too good for this world. She deserved someone so much better than him, but she wanted him. _Him._ And he loved her for it._

_"Bryon..." She looked up at him shyly. "Bryon... would it be okay if you kissed me?"_

_Bryon smiled, and moved towards her. Time seemed to move in slow motion as his lips reached for her's. Slowly... Oh, so slowly... And then contact was made. His lips fused with the rosebud mouth of this girl beside him. The kiss was feather soft..._

Lips crushed hard against his. Hard, brutual, needing... Angela's delicate mouth spouted off passionate filth. Her hands were gripping his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin, and she was off in her own world. He winced slightly, knowing the action should hurt, though it didn't. Nothing hurt anymore... Not even his heart... Not even the memories of Cathy's eyes, so full of trust and love, smiling at him...

"Cathy..."

Angela paused in the motion of slamming her hips down on him. All the color drained from her face. It was too much to hope that she hadn't heard him, because Bryon could already see the rage creeping onto her face. But her eyes told a different story. There was a look of genuine hurt in those eyes of her's. A twinge of guilt pulled at Bryon's heart. Her name had slipped unbidden from his name, a result of wishful thinking.

"Angela, I'm... I'm sorry..." In a small way, he was sorry. He hadn't said that to be spiteful. It had been a complete accident.

"Save it," she said in a tight voice. With a grace all her own, she swung off of him, grabbed her clothes and left the room. He supposed she was going off to pout somewhere.

Bryon sighed. Well, the night really couldn't get much worse from this point. He laid there and stared at the ceiling. Why had Cathy entered his mind then, when he hadn't thought of her in months? Why did his heart still ache for her? Why couldn't he move on when she already had?

A noise brought his attention to the doorway. Angela was standing there, a robe covering her nude body. Her head was cocked, leaning against the doorframe, her arms behind her back. She looked so unreal standing there bathed in the light from the hall. She was pissed, he could tell, the room radiated with her rage. Her gaze laid on him, torn between sad and angry, near tears, and she just stared in silence. Finally, she spoke.

"You called me Cathy... You fucked her, didn't you?"

"That doesn't matter, Angela. It was a long time ago."

"I thought I was the only girl you wanted... I thought I was your only girl..."

"Angel... Don't. I'm not tied down to you. Besides, I was never your 'only'."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't known that he knew. "They never meant anything to me."

"Don't try to explain, Angel. I know what was going on. You got what you wanted, princess, so let's just leave it at that. It's not like this ever meant anything to either of us, you especially. You'll find another guy in a day or two; we both know it."

She crossed the room then. Bryon watched as she leaned over his body, her face coming close to his. She looked deep in his eyes for a moment or two, probing for an answer. She found none. She found nothing in his eyes - only the numbness that made up his whole inside now. Then she did something that surprised him. Angela leaned down and pressed her lips cherishingly against his. The kiss she gave him wasn't anything like he'd ever experienced from this girl before. It was something... loving? His eyes slipped closed as he relaxed into the kiss.

"You were the only one who ever meant anything to me, Bryon..."

Her lips left his. He felt her pull back a little. When he opened his eyes, he was staring down the barrel of a pistol. He recgonized it as the one her mother kept in the nightstand by her bed. Angela had showed it to him once. He knew he should be afraid, even if only a little. He knew he should do something to stop her. But he didn't move. He just layed there, reliving his whole life. He thought of his mother, Mark, his friends, school, and Cathy... Sweet, beautiful, golden Cathy... He exhaled, closed his eyes, and pictured Cathy in his mind, just like he remembered her...

_I stay wrecked and jealous for this  
__For this simple reason  
__I just need to keep you in my mind  
__As something larger than life_

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**_End_**


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